How to train your dragon 2: How to be a pirate
by SaintFirestar666
Summary: Post movie. Hiccup has become a viking but his training isn't over. Now new challenges await him, and it all starts with a coffin and a dream. Spoilers to the people who have never read the books, a re-imagining of the book plot.Warning, will get dark.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the elaborate parts, and the re-imagining of the plot.**

**How to train your dragon is Copyright to Dream-works, How to be a pirate is Copyright Cressida Cowell.**

'_thinking'_

_"_Speaking"

________= end of the section, usually a time, perspective or place shift.

------------= end of sequence, usually the two scenes are related eg: the same scene but from someone else's POV.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"_This is Berk, it rains nine months of the year and hails the other three. Any food that grows here is tough, tasteless. The people that grow here are even more so. The only upside is the pets. While most places have ponies or parrots, we have __**Dragons**__..."_ – Hiccup

* * *

Hiccup was flying.  
He felt more than saw Toothless beneath him, the dragon's muscles bunching and rippling as he twisted and turned. All around him was black clouds and no matter how he strained his eyes, he couldn't see more than about two feet ahead. The wind, which was usually pleasant, was cold and stung his face as they flew.

A sudden series of orange flashes lit the sky for a split second, before all was black again. As he whipped his gaze around trying to find the source of light, he saw black distorted shapes in the fog. Skeletal cloud dragons seemed to dance before toothless flew through them, blurring their shapes irreparably. Silhouettes of Vikings carrying glowing torches seemed to advance on the cloud-flock of what he now recognised as deadly Nadders, menacingly. With each orange flash was accompanied by an ominous rumble of thunder, and as the two sides collided, sounds of screams and roars split the silence.

Suddenly, a group of dragons lead by five familiar shapes joined the fray. Hiccup could see it wasn't enough. Suddenly Toothless jerked and spun erratically, Hiccup looked past the dragon's wings to see the battle. Then Toothless's right wing gave a sickening snap, and flopped uselessly. They fell as one, screaming in unison. Hiccup stared at the fading, but ongoing battle above them. And then, all was black...

* * *

Hiccup jerked awake.  
And promptly bashed his head on the low roof of the sleeping deck. He collapsed again: cursing Odin's toe hair before rolling out of his hammock, narrowly missing Fishlegs on the way down. Hiccup sighed and tried to find his boots, finding the left one underneath the twin's hammocks he slipped it on his left...limb. He glanced around before giving up the other as a lost cause until the morning; he padded to the steps leading to the top deck.  
He did not notice a pair of blue eyes following him up the steps.

* * *

**Part the first, lessons and injuries...**

Thor was annoyed, wait: scratch that. He was exceedingly, extremely pissed off. He had sent a gigantic summer storm to the Isle of Berk, with howling winds and a wild and angry ocean. Thunder bellowed across the sky, lightning shot through the sky and speared the ocean. You had to be a special kind of insane to _want _to sail in this weather. But, there was a single ship cruising bravely through the waves, being hurled violently from wave to wave, the hopping mad ocean chewing at her: hoping to tip her and grind her sailors to sand on its bed.

The madman in charge of this vessel was, rather unsurprisingly, Gobber. This was the second stage of Viking training: Piracy. It was crucial that every Viking could sail, they hadn't got their name for the best sailors around for nothing. Vikings were marauders, conquerors, pillagers and above all: Pirates. This crazy voyage was, in fact, one of Gobber's lessons. Every week, for four days he would take the graduates out to sea to train, as he put it, 'on the job'.

"Now class, this is a great example of what to do when you can't rely on the three key things. What are they?" Gobber bellowed over the roar of the ocean.  
Hands fought in the air to rise first. The trainees were in groups of two: two to each bench, two to an oar. Hiccup was with Fishlegs, who could row with one hand, whilst chewing his nails. Fishlegs knew a lot about dragons, he rode with the best of them but he knew nothing about ships. Or fishing. Or rowing or pretty much _anything _to do with boats in general_. _This was rather unfortunate for Hiccup, because he had to explain everything Gobber said to Fishlegs in terms he would understand. This is difficult to do when all you know are the basics of sailing. It's even harder when you can't stand up on the boat on your own for more than two minutes.

_Stupid leg. Stupid queen dragon_.Hiccup growled as Snoutlout answered the question,  
"Sight, sound and the wind?"  
"Good! So, what happens when someone boards in this weather? What are you going to do?"  
_Walk the plank_. Thought Hiccup viciously as he strained to row, he gritted his teeth as a big wave came over the side to blast him full in the face.

Hiccup is in fact the hero of this story, but you never would have guessed it to look at him. Hiccup had only ever been noticed because of the mistakes he had made, and how small he was in comparison to the other boys. His face was entirely unmemorable, his hair whilst turning his father's red, was only remarkable for flopping into his eyes so many times in one day. His helmet wasn't as extravagant as Tuffnut (Jr)'s and he was nowhere near as muscled as Snoutlout.

Now however he was noticed for ushering the new 'dragon age' on the isle of Berk, and his leg. Whilst the village saw it as a mark of his heroic efforts in spring, he hated it. It told him he had failed.

He had also grown since then, maybe not very much widthways but he had shot up about three inches as if over night. Astrid had a shock when she had looked at him and realised he looked her in the eyes now. But all the other boys looked more of a hero than Hiccup: Snoutlout was the perfect viking, Tuffnut was getting acne, Fishlegs could row an oar all by himself and the girls were... well, he had had his ass handed to him by Astrid so many times he had lost count, and quite frankly Ruffnut creeped him out just a little bit.

Hiccup sighed again; he wanted to fly with Toothless above the clouds and the rain. Like when he had showed Astrid that dragons weren't all bad, when she had- Hiccup forcefully cut himself off from that train of thought. He didn't want to think about when she had held onto him for dear life, or how she had smiled, or how she had-  
"HARD TO PORT!" Gobber's yell cut through Hiccup's thoughts, he immediately braced himself as they span round. Gobber stood faceing them at the fore of the ship, grinning like a lunatic.  
_'No change there.'_ Hiccup mumbled as they rested in the centre of the storm a moment.

"RIGHT!" The veins on Gobber's neck stood out as he yelled above the wind,  
"Sword fighting at sea lesson has begun! Who'll go first eh? Snoutlout! Front and centre! Now, who wants to fight him?" The hands that had clamoured to be picked only moments before, disappeared. The last one to go up against Snoutlout had been Tuffnut, and everyone remembered his resounding screams as he was chased all round the boat. Snoutlout had been taking extra lessons from his father about swordfighting, seeing as he was what he called: 'A natural at killing stuff.' This meant the only person who could probably beat him was Astrid. Who had been banned from fighting for two lessons for multiple reasons, the least of which was slicing the top off a fellow hooligan's ear in a bar skirmish.

She sat, scowling at the ocean like it was a shark that had eaten her favourite axe. Hiccup frowned before taking off his helmet and shaking his hair free of excess water, as he tried to replace it water that had collected in the bottem splashed over his head, the cold water running down his neck, and into his boot.

"Nobody? Alright. Hiccup!" Gobber grinned at him before gesturing to come forward with his hook. Hiccup raised an eyebrow at him before groaning, and walking to the front.  
"Good! Right I want a good and dirty fight! Remember, any movement on your part will give your opponent a clue to what you're going to do." He paused before looking at Hiccup, who had his sword in his left hand. "Right hand Hiccup, this is vital to your future."  
"What? But I do everything with my left han-" Hiccup gestured fruitlessly,  
"No buts. The right hand is your strangest weapon, use it." With that note of finality, Hiccup clasped his sword in both hands, and stood with feet shoulder width apart.  
"Ready? No? Good. The best fight are the unplanned one. Now one...two...thr-"

Gobber never got to finish, Snoutlout had tackled hiccup and had him in an armlock, face down on the deck. Their swords lay forgotten beside them. Hiccup elbowed him in the ribs causing Snoutlout to give his arm an extra twist. Thinking hard, Hiccup smacked Snoutlout on the ankle with his metal foot. Snoutlout howled in pain, loosening his hold on Hiccup just that little bit. Hiccup seized the moment and wrenched his arm free before punching Snoutlout in the jaw.  
"Oof!" Snoutlout saw red. He leapt at Hiccup, picking up his sword as he did. Hiccup tried to defend himself: even though all their equipment had wooden 'safety shields' on them, being hit by one would still give you a massive bruise and a dead limb. But no matter what he did, his right arm wouldn't respond properly. Instead of the neatly performed 'Destroyer's defence', he got a shaky parody and a twingeing elbow. Snoutlout roared in fury as Hiccup proved his skills at dodgeing, again. He didn't notice that with one of his wild swings, the wooden sheath of his sword flew off into the sea. The lightning flashed along his sword's gleaming length.

"Uh oh, Snoutlout I think your sheath-" Hiccup called, but Snoutlout was so incensed he either didn't hear him (very possible in this weather), or he simply didn't care. Hiccup was evading his strikes successfully, each failed swing nicking a chunk out of the deck. But suddenly his metalfoot slipped on the deck and he fell forwards. Just as Snoutlout's fist had been coming up...

They connected with the force of the queen dragon hitting the earth. The blow made Hiccup's teeth rattle. Snoutlout's knuckles cracked. Lightning flashed as Hiccup flew backwards. And all anyone could do was watch as Hiccup hit the rail, and as if in slow motion, s-l-o-w-l-y tipped backwards, into the sea.

"**_HICCUP!!"_**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the elaborate parts, and the re-imagining of the plot.**

**How to train your dragon is Copyright to Dream-works, How to be a pirate is Copyright Cressida Cowell.**

'_thinking'_

_"_Speaking"

**'One voice'**

_'OtHeR VoIcE'_

If it's in a sentance and no one is _thinking_, italics are used as _emphasis_.

_"If there is a quote." and then text in italics, it will be a recollection in a person's head and their thoughts._

________= end of the section, usually a time, perspective or place shift.

------------= end of sequence, usually the two scenes are related eg: the same scene but from someone else's POV.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"_The Night Fury, speed: unknown. Size: unknown. The unholy offspring of lightning and death itself, __never__ engage this dragon. Your only hope is to hide and __pray it doesn't find you__." _–Hiccup, reading from the Dragon manual.

* * *

_**Part the second, doggy paddle and yells**_

"_It's okay, you scared him!"  
"I scared him?! Who is him?"  
"Concentrate Hiccup!"  
"You get your wish, dragon training, first thing in the morning." Dad?  
"Late for what exactly?!" Astrid?  
"Hiccup." What?  
"Hiccup?" Where am I?  
__**"HICCUP!" **__What's happening?_

* * *

Hiccup regained full consciousness the second he hit the water.  
He instinctively gasped, but this only resulted in breathing in seawater. Coughing, he righted himself and swam for the surface. Bursting through the thin line between water and air, he gulped down air. He looked frantically for the ship, but all he saw was a silhouette on the distant waves.

He was momentarily confused, a second ago he had been in the not-so-loving embrace of Snoutlout, the next he was in water so breath-quenchingly, spine-numbingly, heart-stoppingly cold it was difficult to think of questions like: _'What in Odin's ghost do I do now?!'_

He was swept under again by a gigantic wave, only having time to gather some air before he was sent rolling downwards. Opening his eyes, Hiccup peered through the water. It was like looking into a bottle of thick green ink. Lightning provided brief illumination on the surface of the water, picking out huge draconic shapes creeping through the water. Each beating the size of a Monstrous Nightmare with ease, but none he was somewhat relieved to see, beat the Queen dragon. Yet.

Paddling back to the surface he emerged again, coughing. The rain lashed at his face, and the ship was even further away.  
"No! Wait!" He swam hurriedly to what looked like the ship, knowing that if he didn't get back his chances of survival were thin.

"Gobber! Fishlegs! I'm over here! Hey! GOBBER!!" He yelled, before sinking and swallowing more water. His furs and sword were weighing himself down; he didn't want to think about his metal foot. "GOBBER! OVER HERE!" He cried frantically before another wave pulled him down again.

He shrugged himself free of his jacket and sword, both sinking down into the blackness below. He surfaced again, when a burst of pain came from his stump. Hiccup involuntarily grimaced and bent forwards, curling as much as possible around the limb. He kicked off his boot and gasped for air again. His metal foot swirled uselessly through the water. Screwing up his courage he screamed for the people who he needed most.

"_**ASTRIIID!!! TOOTHLESS!!! TOOTHLEEEEESS!!!"**_

* * *

Far away, back on the isle of Berk, a young Night Fury pricked his ears and looked out to the ocean.

Like the other dragons, Toothless had been left behind for training purposes. Toothless rose from his bed of straw in his 'stable', which was a roof and two plank walls attached to the side of Hiccup's house. The front was partitioned from the world by a set of low wooden railings.

Toothless easily leapt over these and raced to the cliff edge. He had a once-in-a-life-time connection with Hiccup, and his instincts _**screamed**_ that the boy was in trouble.

Staring out onto a troubled ocean, Toothless flapped his wings in frustration. Without Hiccup, he couldn't fly. He sat heavily on the ground, and glared at his useless tail, which flapped apologetically back. The rain beat down on Toothless, who spat a couple of fire balls in retaliation. He curled his tail around himself, resolving to wait, because no matter what he did: whether he swam, ran or tried to fly; he wouldn't get there fast enough...

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
_**  
**_Astrid was a true Viking. Everyone agreed, and Odin help you if you said otherwise within earshot.

She had been the best at axe-throwing, dragon training, sword fighting, thievery, you name it: she'd kick your ass at it. And Vikings were tough. They didn't worry about one another, they didn't protect, like or love (with exceptions obviously), look after or care about one another.

But she would fight anyone to the death if they said that they felt **nothing** when they watched Hiccup, the hero, the future and the light of the tribe fall over those railings and into the water.

Everyone had started to race to the side but Gobber and her had beat them all, frantically looking for the dragon rider. The ship had pitched sharply throwing her to the deck with a _clank._  
"STAY AT YOUR POSTS! SHE'LL GO IF YOU'RE NOT ON THE OARS!! _**ROW **_YOU SEAWEED BRAINED, COWARDLY, COWERING, CUTTLEFISH! ROW BECAUSE YOUR _**LIVES DEPEND ON IT!!!**_" Gobber was just as worried as she was, she could see that but if they all stopped rowing then they'd lose all control completely.

"Astrid! You keep an eye out for him! Yell if you spot him! He won't have much time in this storm!" Gobber grabbed the rudder, fighting to keep her steady. Astrid had nodded before scanning the water frantically. With a particularly violent pitch, she felt a small blow to her ankle with a loud 'clank!' to match. Looking down she realised it was Hiccup's helmet, which had obviously fallen off during his scuffle with Snoutlout. She clutched it to her chest momentarily before tucking it, business-like under her left arm. Using her feet to brace herself, she hung onto the rail with her right hand.

"No sign of him yet Gobber!" She yelled over her shoulder.  
"We'll find him! Keep looking! And keep quiet Fishlegs! He's not stupid, he call to get our attention. So listen hard!" He had yelled back, straining against the flow. The deck of trainees fell silent immediately, except Tuffnut (Jr):

"It'll be amazing if when we even hear him. He's got such a tiny voice!" He was elbowed, hard by his twin before being glared at by all the Vikings aboard. "What? I was just sayin'."  
Astrid glared harder before a tiny noise hit her wait ears, her head whipped round so fast it was astonishing she didn't injure it.  
"Wait." She motioned for them to be quiet.  
"But I was! I mean-" Tuffnut started,  
"Ssh!" she hissed.  
"But-!"  
"SHUT UP!" She yelled "I might have heard Hiccup! BUT I CAN'T IF YOU'RE TALKING." Tuffnut wisely shut up. This time they all heard it:  
"Over here!" She turned to Gobber  
"Gobber!"  
"Don't worry lassie I heard him! You just keep an eye out fer 'im!" he flexed his arms as he hauled them in the right direction. They hoped.

* * *

None of them could have possibly known that they would be heading off at a tangent to where Hiccup actually was. They would miss him by about 200 meters. And no matter how they prayed, they would not find him that day.

* * *

Hiccup knew he didn't have much time in this storm, his foot and hands had already gone numb and his teeth wouldn't stop chattering. This prevented him from shouting, he was also getting tired. This was a bad sign, he remembered reading somewhere about 'the cold-sleep' **(1) **a sickness that killed you when you got wet and too cold. He sank again, each time costing more and more effort to get back up to the surface, where it was far too tiring to stay. He knew going under one more time and he wouldn't be able to come back up. He swallowed water and gagged reflexively, he hated salt. Then his eyes began to close, and he felt like going to sleep.

As Hiccup drifted downwards, he woke. Blearily he looked around, '_So this is what dying feels like huh? Kind of, peaceful. Funny, I always thought it would hurt.' _Hiccup smiled slightly, '_Sorry Astrid, sorry Toothless. Looks like it'll cost more than a limb this time round.'_

'_**I'm afraid not small one.' **_It wasn't a voice that spoke to him, more like it went straight to his brain without bypassing his ears for their approval. **(2)**

'_Huh?'_ Hiccup floated, he wanted to be confused but it felt like his mind had turned to mush.

'_**You cannot die yet, Hiccup the Horrendous Haddock the third.' **_It explained without, rather irritatingly, saying anything useful.

'_SSSs, yOu CaNnOt InTeRfErE! He iS OuRs!' _

Now this was new. Another, entity shall we say, joined the conversation. If it could be called that. This one obviously _wanted _him to drown.

* * *

Every human has a voice, a voice in their head. Not a big one, but it's there. It whispers things, telling you to do things you want to do, but are not allowed. It whispers in your ear until you finally cave in.

The people who give into the voice are called Criminals.

Outcasts of society, a tradition that goes back generations because we don't want to know how good it feels to let go. To give control to the voice in our head.

* * *

'**He is fair game! You may not like him, but he is important!' **Hiccup was finding it harder and harder to follow the... discussion, these two were having.

'_No hE iS OuRs! We FoUnD hIm, We WaNt HiM!!' _

'**NO.' **This was broadcast so heavily, Hiccup felt it in his bones.

'_Why me?' _He had finally had enough coherence to ask.

'**There are a great many things in store for you. You're the crux of this turning point in history.'**

Now Hiccup was more confused than ever. '_Would these guys make some sense? They sound like two of the elders fighting____jeez.'_

'**Change does not come easily to the old Hiccup. But it is you who we need to be concerned with at the moment. You must live Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the third, we need you. I can only do so much, here. It is not my place, but I can only aide you nine more times Hiccup.'**

'_No! YoU cAnNot TeLl hIm!' _The second entity was seemingly frantic about it, like some grave secret was about to be uttered.

'**You must remember that, nine times more and the debt will be paid.' **The first entity cut the second off, forcibly making Hiccup pay attention.

'_Nine times, debt, yeah I think I got it.'_

'_**Good. Now watch.'**_

'_Watch for what?'_

'**Watch Hiccup, for a miracle.' **

And with that, Hiccup's eyes finally closed. And he breathed out as he sank, drifting further into darkness while leaving only bubbles behind.

* * *

1) Hypothermia. They're Vikings I don't expect them to know all about it.

2) Yes, lifted shamelessly from death in Terry Pratchet.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the elaborate parts, and the re-imagining of the plot.

How to train your dragon is Copyright to Dream-works, How to be a pirate is Copyright Cressida Cowell.

'_thinking'_

_"_Speaking"

________= end of the section, usually a time, perspective or place shift.

------------= end of sequence, usually the two scenes are related eg: the same scene but from someone else's POV.  
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"_You must feel horrible, you've lost everything. Your father, your tribe, your best friend-"  
"Thank you for summing that up (!)" _–Hiccup and Astrid, at the cliff top.

* * *

_**Part the third, miracles and a warning**_

And then a miracle occurred.  
The Object that floated gently under Hiccup, bearing him to the surface where he woke; coughing and spluttering, was a large, heavy, six foot by three **box**.

It floated, near where Hiccup had been treading water, only he was now_ on_ it. There were a couple of iron handles on the sides, very handy for a very dizzy and confused Hiccup to grab onto.

* * *

About twenty minutes earlier, some laughing Meathead tribe members had thrown this box into the sea from a meathead island cliff, which was a couple of miles away. The winds had carried it a considerable distance in that short amount of time.

And the chances of _that particular box_, travelling in a storm-tossed sea in the middle of the whole wild and lonely ocean just _happening _to bump into the one drowning Viking that desperately needed it, must have been thousands, no, millions to one.

If we were fanciful people we would have said that box was _looking_ for Hiccup.

But we are not fanciful people, and that would be ridiculous....Wouldn't it?

* * *

No sooner than Hiccup had leant forwards to grasp the handles, a gigantic wave tipped it over: sending it and Hiccup rolling downwards. Five indescribably cold minutes later; the box surfaced and righted itself; Hiccup scrambled back on, and there he clung like an anxious daddy-long-legs, terrified but alive.

Looking around Hiccup realised that his, e-hem, _'experience'_ with the 'voices' had obviously taken much longer than he thought. The Sun, which had been down for at least an hour when he had stood up to fight Snoutlout, was rising in a cacophony of colour. Oranges, pinks and reds competed to be the main glow as the light shone, painting the clouds with sunshine **(1). **

Hiccup blinked the last of the salt water out of his eyes, and for the first time in a long while, he smiled.

Now his only problem was finding his way home.

* * *

They had given up searching for Hiccup. Despite the furious protests the now-five strong crew had hurled at him, Gobber had steered them home.

Oh, how Astrid wished he hadn't.

Facing the tribe she could handle, telling the small children that Hiccup had been promising to help with their dragons that he couldn't she could manage, telling the dragons themselves- maybe. Even telling Stoick that his only child may never come back was easier than the task she had been told to do.

She had to go and tell Toothless.

She had looked all over the island, no Toothless. So she was heading to the cliff she and Hiccup had talked about 'doing something crazy' on, as a last resort. As she scrambled over the heather, Toothless came into view.

He was sitting in his unique way, ears pricked towards the ocean, waiting.  
"Hey, Toothless." She quietly announced her presence to the Night Fury; it was not wise to sneak up on a dragon. She smiled bitterly as she remembered it was Hiccup who told her that, after she had seen him walking home with an apologetic Toothless with a fresh scratch. He had laughed about it.

Toothless cocked an ear in her direction, and groaned a greeting. She walked up and sat next to him, legs dangling over the edge; he looked at her and whimpered. Placing what she hoped was a comforting hand on his... fore limb,  
"He'll be back. It may take a little while but, eventually he'll be back."  
Toothless nodded and rumbled.  
"I don't know how long, but no piddling...Little...Measly... Big...Gigantic... Anyway, Hiccup wouldn't let _anything _stop him from coming home back to you."**(2)** She paused and dropped both hands in her lap and stared at them. She thought about it a moment, the unique bond between Hiccup the human and Toothless the dragon. How important they were to one another.

She was knocked out of her reverie by a black muzzle knocking her almost over, before being licked to death. "Alright, alright!" She laughed, "Me too. Hiccup would always come back for the _both _of us. There, happy?" Toothless stopped and purred before settling down on the wooden deck, and looking out over the ocean. Astrid shifted closer and leant against him, getting comfortable before watching the sun set.

Fortunately they did not have long to wait.

This time...

* * *

Okay, Hiccup was _never_ willingly going to eat raw fish again. _Ew._

_I will never understand Toothless's love for this stuff. _He grimaced and threw the rest back. _Blegh. Never, never again. The very first time was bad enough. _He grinned at the thought of Toothless, which turned into thinking about flying, with led to the thought of-

_No, nope. Do NOT think about, it's your own stupid fault anyway. But if- I mean when, you get back you can tell her you're sorry. Now..._

His face hardened in determination: bracing himself, he slid his legs into the frigid water.

_Kick!_

Grasping the handles, he kicked for all he was worth.

* * *

About half an hour later...  
_______________________________________________________________________________

'_This is getting ridiculous.' _Mumbled Hiccup.

He had seen bushes, trees, chairs (_?!), _tables (_Seriously?!), _wardrobes even, all float past. Heck, he had seen rope, paddles (one of which is now being used to move his makeshift boat), sails (despite the fact he hadn't seen any boats whatsoever), shields (a good sign he was heading in the right direction) and many other strange things. But right now he was watching an entire flotilla of foliage complete with sheep float past.

'_By the beard of Thor, Loki _**(3)**_ must have had a field day last night!' _Hiccup didn't know how right he was. The sun had nearly set by now, so he used the last of the light to its maximum advantage: steering well clear of obstacles that would smash his life raft well in advance.

'_I'm nearly there.' _He kept telling himself, as the light dimmed that much more. _'I'm nearly there._

* * *

Toothless and Astrid were in the same place as they had been for the past three hours since Astrid had arrived. It had been an entire day since Hiccup had fallen over board; the crescent moon had risen to its peak. Astrid could hear people calling for them, but no one would look here. All was still.

Until a distant yell split the silence.

"What?" Toothless and Astrid sprang to attention, waiting, concentrating every fibre of being into their ears so they weren't deceived. This time it came through loud and clear:

"_Thumbnails of Thor!!!" _Well, actually the 'Thor' was a lot more drawn out, gurgled, and ended in a sort of muffled yelp. So more:

"Thooooooooooooooooooooooo-rgurgle-ugh-ugh-ow!"

But nonetheless there was no mistaking that phraseology.

It was Hiccup.

* * *

Hiccup had to admit, he was having an extraordinarily bad day. Even by his _old _standards.

Never had he been so happy to see to cliffs of home. Berk, not the most spectacular places maybe, but a very much loved one. Now all he had to do was land at the damn thing.

He'd been doing well, considering it was on a square object with no rudder, no sails, no steering whatsoever and the only method of propulsion he had was a singular plank of wood.

That is until he tried to get to the beach.

Hiccup learnt a valuable lesson: after a storm, the waves will _still_ be rough. The first only made him pitch wildly, "Woah!" he clung on tightly. The second wave however, caught him at exactly the wrong angle. Hiccup felt the back of the box rise and rise and then-

"Oh thumbnails of Thooooooooooooooooo-rgurgle-gurgle-ugh-ugh-ow!"

Basically the box had flipped base over apex in the swell, then span multiple times as the swell broke. This made Hiccup swallow what was around the fiftieth mouthful of saltwater that day. He landed next to the box, slammed down by the sea; spread-eagled on his back, before being left by the retreating tide.

"Ow."

He struggled to stand, he didn't get far however before being tackled by a flying metal and blonde figure wrapping itself securely around his waist. He was flung back down into the damp pebbles.

"What the-?! Astrid?!" He had barely time to realise who it was through his overly-long wet fringe and sit up again, before being mown down by what felt like a team of rhinos.  
"Oof!"

This tackle flung Astrid up, the top of her head meeting with Hiccup's chin bringing his teeth together with a sickening _crack! _This is because Toothless had shoved her out the way so he could check Hiccup all over; the Young Night Fury was sniffing down by Hiccups right toes at the moment.

"Er, hello." Hiccup tried to relieve some of the tense emotions flying around, as best he could through a jaw that felt like it wanted to fall off.  
"Hi." Astrid smiled sheepishly back. Only mildly embarrassed that she was currently practically straddling her erm...

* * *

She wasn't entirely sure what Hiccup was. On again, off again boyfriend was a bit too far,... okay, a lot too far. But she wasn't sure they weren't just 'friends' either. Let's go with 'him' for now shall we?

* * *

Straddling him. "This is a greeting and a half." He half smiled, not able to rub his jaw because both hands were- ah. They were on Astrid. Well.  
She coloured slightly, before laughing into his salt encrusted jerkin.  
"How's your head by the way?" His jaw finally stopped hurting enough to properly smile at her, just in time for a long, wide and most of all- wet, tongue to swipe him across the face.  
Astrid really laughed now,  
"Urgh, Toothless. I'm a Viking and even _I _don't want to know where that's been. Thank you so much." Hiccup held his serious face for about a second before both he and Astrid creased up again.  
"Hello, buddy." He grinned at Toothless, like an identical twin that's just found the other one again. Toothless purred at him.

However anymore touching reunions was disrupted by the fact that although the tide was _going _out, did not mean it was necessarily _gone_. It came creeping back up, and splashed the three best friends square in the faces.

Astrid, as I'm sure we have said before is _not a girly Viking. _This does not mean however, that she cannot shriek at cold seawater in the face. Hiccup, now well versed in sea water of all flavours, shook it off and blinked.

Toothless however, got it in an _eye._ Ouch. He was howling round the beach yelling atrocities in dragonese, (which sounds like a lot of screeches anyway) not that either of the human could understand him. Astrid and Hiccup both leapt to their feet, trying to calm the dragon down (and I might add, not to look at one another's faces which were glowing like suns).

Of course, a dragon screeching at about midnight will wake people. Fortunately for the ones at the beach, there was no one in their homes this particular night. They were in the great hall, discussing Hiccup.

Having calmed Toothless down the two young Vikings, now only slightly pink, paused for a minute:  
"So, am I dead yet?" Hiccup asked causally. Astrid punched him. "OW!"

"That was for falling off a boat in the middle of a storm!"

They then paused for a moment, neither sure what to do next. Toothless saved them from further awkwardness by licking Hiccup again, "And that's for everything else!" Giggled Astrid breathlessly.  
"Whatever, help me take this to the main house." Grumbled Hiccup.  
"Why?"  
"Because of something I saw, I have a feeling that my father is going to want to open this box rather badly. And I have to be there to stop him, c'mon."

Astrid watched as he heaved one end around so they could grab a side each. There, barely Illuminated were the words:

_**Do NOT Open This Box!!**_

She shivered slightly before taking the nearest handle, and began to trudge up the pebbled beach-front, thankful to be doing it together at all.

* * *

1) -A very old song my father loves, anyone else know this?

2) - She's trying to reassure Toothless without lying to him. So she's not too sure what to say. I think an EPIC FAIL on my part.

3) - Loki, god of mischief amongst other things in Norse mythology.


	4. Chapter 4

**Note: On Hiccup and Astrid's relationship, well I hate reading fics in any fandom (Seriously, how do you spell that?!) where everything in a relationship is magically perfect. It's not freaking possible. They were about 13 years old **_**MAX **_**in that movie, there is no way they'd get in that deep at that age, so basically I slowed it down a bit from the movie because of the plot and realism. **

**P.S. Also, it may not be obvious, but Hiccup did something stupid so they're not quite so together at the moment.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the elaborate parts, and the re-imagining of the plot.**

**How to train your dragon is Copyright to Dream-works, How to be a pirate is Copyright Cressida Cowell.**

'_thinking'_

_"_Speaking"

If it's in a sentence and no one is _thinking_, italics are used as _emphasis_.

________= end of the section, usually a time, perspective or place shift.

------------= end of sequence, usually the two scenes are related eg: the same scene but from someone else's POV.

* * *

"_No, no. You can go first."  
"Alright. You get your wish, Dragon training. You start first thing in the morning."  
"Oh man, I should have gone first." _–Hiccup and Stoick, when Hiccup comes home after freeing Toothless.

* * *

When Hiccup had entered the main hall, he had never seen the village so quiet.

They were all in a circle around the table, where Stoick was sat, head bowed, over a map of the arpeggio. A large 'X' was in the middle of the sea labelled: Odin's bathtub, this was where Hiccup had fallen into the sea. If it had been any other Viking, Stoick would have laughed it off, and hope the Viking would be home the next day.

But it wasn't, it was Hiccup.

And somehow, that changed everything.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The doors of the hall opened rather too over-dramatically for Hiccup's liking. Yes it was raining (it had started damned suddenly he might add), but this was _Berk_ for Thor's sake! Yes, there was thunder from an approaching storm, and lightning did _just happen _to flash just as the door was thrown open by the wind. But, he reasoned, was no reason to react as badly as the Tribe did.

They all screamed. Rather loudly.

* * *

Well, wouldn't you if this menacing figure, silhouetted by lightning, thunder rolling, rain sprawling wind-driven all around them?

Yes, I would too.

* * *

Stoick had looked up, and promptly reached for his axe. But before he could disembowel the creature, Gobber yelled:  
"It's Hiccup!!"And it was. As they came closer to the central fire, the 'creature' transformed slowly into a wet Hiccup and a soaking Astrid hauling a large box inside. Toothless also slunk in hissing quietly, narrowing his eyes and pupils at the village members, who shifted guiltily from foot to foot.  
Dragons weren't usually permitted in the main hall, but the first time anyone had tried to 'shoo' Toothless they had ended up on the receiving end of a small fire blast. Even so whispers of 'Night Fury!' whenever he left Hiccup's house hadn't completely died yet.

Hiccup and Astrid dumped the box next to the fire, Hiccup walked up to his father. Stoick embraced Hiccup in a bone crushing hug, lifting him off the floor by at least two feet. Toothless on the other hand, shook himself like a dog over a few (now irritated) members of the village and Astrid, who had only just finished wringing out her hair.  
"Oh, Toothless!" She grumbled good naturedly, before Hiccup was set down with a thump. Stoick clapped a hand on his son's shoulder.  
"Well done Hiccup! Just what we would expect from the heir of the chief." He bellowed for the villages benefit, before saying just loud enough for those closest to hear him.  
"I'm so proud."

Hiccup grinned at his father before shaking his hair free of excess water, which just happened to land on Astrid, who then punched him.  
"Well, I'm back." Hiccup stated, tired of the astounded silence.  
"Aye, that you are." Gobber hopped over, grinning like a chimpanzee that had lost more than a few of its nuts. "And you come bearing gifts, I see." Gesturing towards the now gently steaming box, in the middle of the hall. He hobbled down the steps and advanced on the unsuspecting box, he walked around it twice, wrapping a mallet on the sides before freezing in shock at the description.

Because the _box wasn't a box at all. It was a coffin._

A huge, six and a half foot floating coffin, with an inscription on the front that would make the toughest Viking to start trembling in his boots. The tribe gathered around the box-turned-coffin, forgetting in their curiosity, all about Hiccup's narrow escape.

"It's a coffin sir." Explained Hiccup, tactfully as he could because grammar and spelling were not the tribe's forte.  
"Yes, I can see that thank you, Hiccup." Snapped Gobber the belch. "The question is whose?"  
Hiccup leant forward and cleared his throat, the answer was written right under the words:  
_'__**BEWARE! DO NOT OPEN THIS COFFIN**__**!' **_In letters scratched out with some kind of dagger, and stained with something that might once have been blood. Hiccup cleared his throat and read loud enough for everyone to hear:

'_**CURS'ED BE HE WHO DISTURBETH THE REMAINS OF GRIMBEARD THE GHASTLY THE GREATEST PIRATE WHO EVER STRUCKETH TERROR INTO THE INNER ISLES'**_

Hiccup felt a cold, clammy shiver, like someone who had very cold hands had run a single finger down his spine, and was now leaning over his shoulder laughing at him. He shuddered slightly, and he knew his bad feeling down at the beach, that something terrible was going to happen had been confirmed.

Grimbeard the Ghastly had been Hiccup's great-great-grandfather. He had been the greatest Viking in history for many, many years: hoarding a huge amount of treasure through pillaging and his brilliance at piracy. A treasure that included the greatest sword of all time, _the stormblade._

But after thirty years of glorious rule, Grimbeard had disappeared on an unknown, mysterious quest, and neither he nor his treasure had ever been seen again. And now here, quite out of the blue one hundred years later, his coffin had appeared and saved the heir to the tribe, before returning to the shores of Berk...It was a little more than spooky to be honest. And Hiccup didn't believe in coincidence.

"OOOOOOOOOH!" went the hooligan tribe, leaning in slightly to get a closer look, Snoutlout, Fishlegs and the twins shoved their way to the front. Hiccup shuffled backwards slightly before a familiar warm hand touched his own, causing him to jump slightly before grasping it.  
"Do you think there might be _treasure_ in there, sir?" Asked an overly-eager Snoutlout, the other children taking up the cry, "Can we open it sir? Pleasesir? Pleeeeeaaase sir, can we open it?" soon the whole tribe was joining in the clamour...

...Except for Hiccup, Astrid and Fishlegs.

Hiccup knew that Grimbeard had been the _ultimate _in pirateness, the _greediest, grisliest, goriest _Viking to ever sail across the Northern Seas. Treasure or no treasure, if a man like Grimbeard the Ghastly was telling you not to mess with his coffin; it was Hiccup's personal opinion that you ought to listen.

Even if he had been dead for a hundred years.  
_Particularly _if he had been dead for a hundred years.

"Right." Said Gobber who was just as excited as everybody else. "The chief will decide."  
Everyone turned to Stoick who frowned in thought a moment, before nodding to himself.  
"The elders shall have a conference. Here, now. Everyone else: clear off for five minutes."

Disgruntled they weren't going to open it _now_, the village dutifully moved to the other end of the hall from Stoick's desk, where he was in a huddle with several old Vikings and Gobber. Hiccup and Astrid were offered dry-ish clothes from friends and family respectively.

* * *

Berk was one of those places which for eighty percent of the time it was damp and clothes never really dried, they just became warm and damp instead of cold and wet. The twenty percent left over clothes were quite often the same flexibility as cardboard, because of all the dried-in salt. Obviously, this is in the wet period.

* * *

They sat as close to the fire as possible, (because they were not yet sixteen, all of Hiccup's friends weren' considered adults yet so they generally ended up on the floor-furs.) Hiccup was sprawled on a large brown fur, right in front of the fire. Sitting next to him, on his left: was Fishlegs who was worried. This was not in itself unusual, but Fishlegs was definitely scared about the coffin, which was. He had always been a much more 'Viking-y' Viking than Hiccup. On the other side of the fire was Toothless on his own floor-fur, (he had refused to leave Hiccup so many times Stoick had given in and gave him a designated space in the hall.)

Astrid came over and sat cross-legged on the other side of Hiccup, and sighed.  
"You okay?" She asked Hiccup, resting her chin in her right palm as she did so. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at her with a lop-sided smile before answering.  
"Yeah, you?" She quirked an eyebrow, giving him a look that clearly said: 'I-am-female-not-feeble-do-not-worry-about-me-again-any-time-soon.' He coughed quietly to hide his laughter:  
"Anyway, am I the only one with a horrible feeling that some idiot (probably my father or Gobber), is going to suggest _opening_ that coffin which says quite clearly '**_Do not open'_**? It would be the sort of mindless, stupid thing they would do." He said completely dead-pan, causing Astrid and Fishlegs to crease up into laughter (although the nervous kind from the latter).

"What do you think could be in it?" asked Fishlegs, with an uneasy smile.  
"I don't know," said Hiccup, "but a pirate like Grimbeard the Ghastly won't have hidden the treasure in it without booby-trapping it in some way. You read what it said on top,-"  
Fishlegs coloured slightly, being able to read wasn't a massively desirable skill for Vikings.  
"A man like him could have all sorts of nasty, unpleasant surprises inside." Hiccup continued, pretending not to notice.

On the other side of the fire, Toothless made a snickering noise, but shut up at Hiccup's glare. He sulkily spat into the fire, increasing the size and warmth before curling round it so his head was at Astrid's elbow on Hiccup's right. Fishlegs yelped when Toothless's long tail curled round him from the left, separating the three almost-teens slightly from the rest of the tribe, giving them a semblance of privacy in the crowded hall.

"But they wouldn't open it, would they?" Worried Fishlegs. "Surely, surely, _surely _they couldn't be that stupid?" Hiccup shrugged and shared a private look with Astrid that clearly said to each other: 'I really hope not, if only for _his_ sake.' Before he flopped back down on the fur, sighing loudly.

Elder conferences always lasted a long time, but it was going to take even longer as the head elder: Hiccup's Grandfather on his mother's side (now known as 'Old and Wrinkly and destined for Valhalla no matter what' or, 'Old Wrinkly' for short) wasn't even there yet. He lived in a clearing near the edge of the forest of Berk, because he could easily get his 'medicine' ingredients there, and so generally didn't hear about anything until Hiccup visited him every weekend.

But Hiccup smiled; he was warm, comfortable, home, Toothless was near and- his train of thought was cut off when a familiar blonde head suddenly came to rest on his stomach. He froze, hardly daring to breathe. He looked without turning his head towards Fishlegs, who hadn't noticed a thing. He was sitting, looking worried as he occasionally poked or fed the fire. Astrid moved slightly, causing him to shudder slightly with laughter. For Thor's sake, she _knew _he was ticklish there!

Lulled by the warmth, his friends and safety; Hiccup fell deeply asleep. Astrid had only noticed when she had asked him a rather important question, when he didn't reply she turned over so she was looking towards his face. Seeing his (for once) peaceful sleeping face, she smiled affectionately before getting comfortable herself, falling into a light doze.

About half an hour later she sat bolt upright as the main hall doors were flung open, the storm had returned in full force and so she was surprised to see the three figures entering out of the gale. Toothless opened one eye and growled quietly, his version of asking them to 'shut up because his human was asleep.' She patted his nose, watching along with the rest of the tribe as the elder of their tribe revealed himself from underneath several thick cloaks.

He was a diminutive man, not naturally small, for he had once been just like Stoick himself. But now he had grown so old, his skin was like that of a dried kipper; wrinkled and a mottled brown from a life time of outdoors activity. He was completely bald, but his long, thin and grey moustache nearly made up for it. His traditional Viking beard was cut short, only about an inch and a half long. His helmet and armour was dented, rusted, buckled inwards in places and blackened with age. His helmet horns were that of a particular breed of cow, where the older they were: the longer their straight horns were, the cow must have been very old for the horns stretched upwards for roughly 50 centimetres, give or take ten. He had a variety of little sacks, phials and bags attached with string to a pair of belts forming an 'X' over his aged armour: these were his medicines, and he took them everywhere. He was dressed in dark browns apart from his black armour and helmet, and his eyes which had paled with age were a piercing blue.

He coughed, before smiling kindly at them all. Astrid subconsciously relaxed, he looked far less severe when he smiled, his face creased up in happy little wrinkles and his eyes sparked. He then strode towards Stoick to deal with the matter at hand, the doors slamming shut behind him.

Hiccup didn't stir.

Astrid settled back down, waiting to hear the verdict. About an hour later she was surprised to hear raised voices from the elder huddle, Old Wrinkly was arguing with Stoick about opening the box but Stoick was not moving, they were opening it. And apparently that, was that.

"IT'S STUPID! IT'S _GRIMBEARD THE GHASTLY_!! OF COURSE THERE WILL BE SOMETHING HORRIBLE IN IT! I MEAN IT- OH YOU KNOW WHAT?! _FORGET IT_! I said nothing; I mean what's the point in talking if nobody listens!" The old man made his way, muttering, towards the trio. He leant over Toothless's head and peered, smiling bitterly at the confused Astrid. "The crack-pot old fools won't listen to me; the call of the treasure is too much for them I suppose. Never mind, if it all goes the way of Loki and Fenir **(1) **then nobody can say I didn't warn them. We're going to open the coffin, so would you be so kind as to wake Hiccup? I have a feeling we may need him."

He didn't know how right he was, until much later.

* * *

Hiccup woke with a start, why did his head hurt so much? Looking around he saw a satisfied Astrid, which was his first clue, the second was his head hurt in a very particular shape.

"What was that for?" He rubbed his head, wincing.  
"Not getting up." She smiled at him, before Fishlegs coughed quietly.  
"Hiccup, you might wanna hear what they're going to say" He informed them, "It's got something to do with the coffin." Hiccup smiled and stood up.  
"Thanks Fishlegs." Before starting to edge through the crowd,  
"But they're _not _going to open it right Hiccup? They'd have to be very stupid to want to do that right?" Fishlegs called after him, but any reply that Hiccup yelled wasn't heard over the cacophony of the village hubbub.

"Apparently they are." Mumbled Astrid as they wriggled their way to the front.  
"Undoubtedly." Agreed Hiccup, elbowing around some particularly stubborn watchers, "I wouldn't be surprised if they asked me to do it." He continued, with false enthusiasm. Astrid laughed, before ducking under some legs. Finally they reached the front, where Old Wrinkly and Stoick were having a sideways staring contest with one another.

"Ah Hiccup, there you are." Said Hiccup's father, Stoick the Vast rather absent-mindedly, as he finished consulting with the other elders in front of the coffin. Stoick was a terrifying bull of a man _normally_, but the protests against opening the coffin with overly-complicated reasons had been too much for Stoick, so he had retreated behind a mask of grumpiness, pretending he had understood everything.  
"Interesting find you've made here my boy." Said Stoick, cuffing Hiccup around his already reeling head affectionately. "The Lost treasure of Grimbeard the Ghastly, eh?"

"Yes father but..." Feebly protested Hiccup.  
"We're just about to open it." Said Stoick,  
"But what I'm _trying _to say is-" Interrupted Old Wrinkly, "It is written _quite clearly _on the top, '_**DO NOT OPEN THIS COFFIN, **__**CURS'ED BE HE WHO DISTURBETH THE REMAINS OF GRIMBEARD THE GHASTLY THE GREATEST PIRATE WHO EVER STRUCKETH TERROR INTO THE INNER ISLES'**__**...**_It is in my considerable experience it is always a good idea _not to open_ a coffin that _says __**'DO NOT OPEN'**_ on the front..."  
"I agree." Hiccup mumbled, causing Old Wrinkly to grin at him. "Grimbeard the Ghastly was a nasty piece of work. Anybody who opens that coffin could be in for a horrible shock." He calmly pointed out.

"Rubbish." Scoffed Stoick the Vast. "A warning like that is to put off grave-robbers, it should not stay the hand of Fearsome Vikings like ourselves. Shall we, who laugh in the face of Death and spit in the eye of the Great Typhoon, quail at a simple curse to scare infants and old men." He looked at Old Wrinkly rather nastily at that point.

Cries of 'No!' and 'Not likely Guv'nor!' resounded round the hall.  
"All those in favour of opening the box and seeing if the lost treasure of Grimbeard the Ghastly is in there, say 'AYE'!"  
"**AYE!**" Bellowed out every member of the Hairy Hooligan tribe, except a deathly pale Fishlegs, Astrid, Old Wrinkly and Hiccup.

"Run for your lives." Muttered Hiccup, as Fishlegs edged further back into the crowd.  
"_NOT _a good idea. _NOT _a good idea. _NOT_ a good idea!"He continued, edging back as far as he could without being suspicious as Stoick fiddled and then broke the Iron clasps.

"_NOT _a good idea! _NOT _a good idea! _NOT _a _GOOD IDEA!!" _Repeated Hiccup as Stoick c-r-e-a-k-e-d open the coffin lid.

_C-c-c-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-k-k..._

* * *

1) Fenir is the giant wolf, son of Loki who brings about the end of the world if he ever gets out of the ribbon.

Sorry for the wait, I was busy.


	5. Chapter 5

**First I must apologise for the really long wait. I hate it when authors say they'll update and then never do, and I hate doing to you guys. Thanks for waiting, hope this is worth it.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the elaborate parts, and the re-imagining of the plot.**

**How to train your dragon is Copyright to Dream-works, How to be a pirate is Copyright Cressida Cowell.**

'_thinking'_

_"_Speaking"

If it's in a sentence and no one is _thinking_, italics are used as _emphasis_.

_"If there is a quote." and then text in italics, it will be a recollection in a person's head and their thoughts._

_= end of the section, usually a time, perspective or place shift.

-= end of sequence, usually the two scenes are related eg: the same scene but from someone else's POV.

* * *

"_I'm hope for some serious burns, like, on my shoulder or my lower back."  
"Yeah, it's only fun if you get a scar out of it."  
"Yeah, I know right. Pain. Love it(!)." _– Ruffnut, Astrid and Hiccup at Dragon training, in that order.

* * *

The coffin lid opened with a bang that could probably be heard in Valhalla.

Stoick jumped away to avoid being splashed by the sandy seawater that gushed out from all sides. Everybody tried (but failed,) very hard not to look nervous. Gobber and Stoick swallowed in unison before they both peered into the coffin.

There was a long pause.

"Not exactly pretty was he?" joked Gobber weakly, trying to show off how much he laughed in the face of death.  
"Hmmph. I think I can see some family resemblance." Intoned Stoick, leaning slightly closer in an effort to examine the corpse more closely.  
"I know what you mean; I can see some of your great aunt Hefty-thighs." Nodded Gobber, rubbing his bristles thoughtfully. Both men shared a look of silent relief, before stepping slightly back again.

Hiccup opened his eyes and un-braced himself. Exhaling lightly he ran his hand through his needing-a-trim hair, and grimaced at the stiffness. He was about to go and talk to Old Wrinkly about stupid-Vikings-with-testosterone-problems when he was halted mid-step. He hadn't noticed until that point, but his hand was clamped in a vice-like grip and the numbness of his fingers had finally made contact with his brain. Glancing down he recognised Astrid's white-knuckle grip before it vanished as silently as it had come.

Pretending he hadn't noticed, Hiccup sighed again before turning his head and smiling weakly at Astrid. She gave him an equally weak one back. He stepped into the space around the coffin, mentally preparing himself for the horrors within.

'_If I'm going to be a pirate, let alone a Viking I need to get used to this sort of thing'. _Hiccup thought, trying to act brave for the surrounding Vikings. Stopping by his father's side, Hiccup made himself look over the edge and into the coffin.

There, inside the coffin, in a state of green and yellow decay, lay Grimbeard the Ghastly's corpse. '_It's not so bad really'. _Thought Hiccup, '_His face is all drippy and disgusting; but it's not crawling with maggots or anything. Rather peaceful, lying so still...' _And then Hiccup caught a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye. Looking down, he was sure he saw one of the paper white fingers twitch slightly. He blinked, rubbed his eyes and stared hard at it.

There was nothing for a moment. And then, ever so slightly, it did it again. A definite quivering.

"The corpse!" gargled Hiccup, his voice sounding like he had been half strangled. "The corpse is moving!"  
"Nonsense Hiccup!" Brushed off Gobber, nonchalantly. "How could he be moving? By the great god Thor, he's _**dead**_." And, as if to prove it to himself, Gobber gave the corpse a fat fingered poke.

The 'corpse' of Grimbeard the Ghastly lurched bolt upright, seemingly propelled by some evil force within it, yellow eyes popping, it's dribbly green face contorted in an awful pain-filled grimace. Hiccup leapt about three feet in the air, the vice-like grip returned only to clamp around his upper arm. Stoick flailed backwards violently, his hair (and more noticeably) and beard sticking out in all directions with the shock of it. Gobber however, was frozen, petrified by this zombie so close to his nose.

"Aaaarrgh." Gurgled the corpse of Grimbeard the Ghastly, straight into the face of Gobber the belch.

_"!"_ screeched Gobber, the force of his terror filled scream causing his stone tooth to fly out of his mouth and smack a poor, defenceless Snipelout in the forehead, who promptly fainted. The entire Tribe watched Snipelout's slow decent, before joining Gobber.

_**"!**__**!" **_yelled the rest of the tribe.

For while Vikings do indeed laugh in the face of Death, and spit in the eye the Great Typhoon, all Vikings, _any _Vikings, have a morbid fear of the super-natural.

Some terrified Vikings, i.e: Tuffnut, Fishlegs, Ruffnut, and the seven small new recruits, Snoutlout (very surprising), Gobber and Stoick (terrifyingly astonishing) dived and hid under the nearest table in the vague Viking belief that if you can't see **IT**, **IT **can't see **YOU**. The rest of the tribe was scrambling to hide or runaway, causing chaos and panic everywhere. People were tripped, hands trodden on; helmets knocked every-which-way, screams blocking any reasonable level of discussion and weapons drawn.

Seawater poured out of the coffin. The 'corpse' of Grimbeard the Ghastly made disgusting choking noises, twitching horribly with every gasp, it's hands out stretched desperately for something unseen. The veins on its popping yellow eyes stood out, it's grey mouth quivering, froth accumulating at the corners.

Only Old Wrinkly remained calm.

"Don't panic." Said Old Wrinkly, "This is **not** the corpse of Grimbeard the Ghastly..."  
Hiccup had frozen in terror. Even if he hadn't been frightened out of his skin, he still couldn't move. Astrid was rooted to the floor; her hands in a white knuckled, bloodless (preventing any and all circulation) grip around his left bicep. If you had pushed them at that precise moment, it would have felt like prodding a stone pillar.

But Hiccup trusted Old Wrinkly, so he opened his eyes.

Nobody else took any notice whatsoever. They just went on, panicking crazily.

"Odin preserve me from the terminally stupid." Muttered Old Wrinkly under his breath, sharing an exasperated look with a still-slightly-scared-but-more-confused Hiccup. Who nodded slightly, before taking in the chaos for a minute, seeing a trembling huddle of Vikings with- was that his father? Chairs strewn across the floors, table turned over, and general havoc. Toothless, he was relieved to see was on a rafter where he gestured for him to **stay!**

Now he needed to concentrate.

* * *

Toothless was nonplussed. His human-hatchling had returned, that was good. They had walked into the Viking-idiots massive wooden cave, and one minute all was fine and the next... He doubted his tail was going to ever be the same again.

To escape the fleeing Vikings he had leapt up onto one of the rafters, balancing precariously he had sought out his human-hatchling, known to all 'Hiccup'. Which was a stupid name anyway, who named their hatchlings after an irritating noise?

Finally he located him, next to the one resembling a salted kipper. The sort-of-his yellow-furred human-hatchlet **(1) **was next to him, holding him as tight as when they had taken her for a ride. Toothless leapt to the next rafter along, avoiding the bone chandeliers that were strung from the ceiling. Hopping from one widthways rafter to a lengthwise one, he focused on his human-hatchling in the sea of terrified Vikings.

He had his eyes scrunched tight shut, from pain or fright Toothless didn't know. But he remained on the one spot, as though intending to become a tree, unbending in the rush. The yellow-furred hatchlet was behind him, shielding herself with the one thing she could rely on, hiding from the salty-Human-in-a-box. Her face was in an expression Toothless would have only associated with extreme pain.

The smells were even more confusing.

Apart from the usual not-dragon-fire smoke smell, the Viking fodder smells and the unmistakeable tang of ale, cider and sweat. There was the unusual prey-smell from the Viking-idiots, and terror and bitterness and what was that? That cold smell, unlike the dirt smell from a fresh hole, or the smell after rain, it smelt like...metal, or oil on water. Toothless didn't like that smell, and it was coming from that box.

Toothless growled.

* * *

Old Wrinkly decided the 'normal' approach wasn't working. So he started to yell, which was the only language the Hooligans understood anyway.

"**DON'T PANIC THIS IS **_**NOT **_**THE CORPSE OF GRIMBEARD THE GHASTLY!" **As he yelled he whacked the corpse-that-wasn't-a-corpse hard on the back. Yet more seawater spluttered out of it in all directions, gushing out of its nose, mouth and ears.

_How long was he in that box?_ Wondered Hiccup, because it definitely wasn't the corpse of Grimbeard the Ghastly. Now that it had recovered from the coughing fit, it was clearly a tall, good-looking man, very much alive if a little green from the effects of the sea water.  
"So..." said Stoick, rising from under the table, coughing slightly to hide the fact he had run away bellowing in terror from the corpse-that-wasn't-a-corpse. A few brave Vikings shuffled out from behind tables and chairs, (even out of the massive cooking pot in one case) but many remained hidden, only their heads or eyes showing their growing interest.

"That is **definitely not **the corpse of Grimbeard the Ghastly?"  
The corpse-that-wasn't-a-corpse shook its head.  
"Oh no." It said faintly, "Definitely not, an easy mistake to make if I do say so myself, but no. No I'm not." And he slithered out of the coffin in a rush of seawater. He then proceeded to remove his helmet and considering the circumstances, performed a remarkably graceful bow.  
"The name is Alvin. Alvin the...er..." here he coughed a little, "The-poor-but-honest farmer."

In Astrid's opinion, Alvin was a little too smarmy to be a farmer, he had quick and far too clever eyes that seemed to be laughing at some private joke. His moustache (for you cannot be a true Viking without facial hair) was long and elegant, although a little limps to the prolonged exposure to the sea water. He also had a charming, easy-going smile (but fussy people, like Astrid, thought it had a few too many teeth in it).

Alvin stepped forward gracefully to pat a still recovering Hiccup on the head.  
"And who might you be sonny?" it took Hiccup a second to re-start his frazzled brain to come up with a suitable reply;  
"Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third." He replied in a confused voice.

"Greetings." Said Alvin the-poor-but-honest Farmer. He stooped to look briefly under the table at the still hiding Vikings, who all coughed sheepishly, before turning to look at Stoick.  
"I presume from your natural air of authority that you must be chief of this tribe?"

"Stoick the Vast." Replied Stoick in his gruff-because-I'm-confused voice.  
Alvin dramatically clapped his hand to his forehead, staggering backwards a couple of steps in shock. Toothless watched him with acid green eyes and growled lightly as he dripped down a post and onto the floor.  
"Not THE Stoick the Vast, Terror of the seas, Most High Ruler of the Hooligans, O hear his Name and Tremble, ugh, ugh? By an EXTRODINARY coincidence, you are the very man I have been looking for!"

Stoick puffed his chest out at the question, the rest of the tribe staggered to their feet, wearing their usual expressions of confused aggression.  
"That's me." Confirmed Stoick the Vast, in much of his old hearty manner.  
"And may I ask, if you're NOT the corpse of Grimbeard the Ghastly, What in Odin's name were you doing in his coffin?"

"What a remarkably bright question," replied Alvin enthusiastically, while Hiccup fought the urge to laugh at the truth of his statement.  
"And if I could just sit down in this comfortable looking chair? It's been a long day..." he continued,  
"of course, of course." Said Stoick brushing off his own throne, before sitting opposite it on a far too small stool. Hiccup watched Alvin walk over to the chair and settle comfortably into it.

"...I would be delighted to tell you my Tale..." grinned Alvin.  
He slyly glanced round the circle, making eye contact with a pair of blue eyes who frowned at him from behind Hiccup, before glancing back to Stoick.

And Alvin finally began his tale...

* * *

**(1) A hatchlet is a female hatchling, like a girl chick that's just hatched.**

**I know, gone for an age and the****n I give you all cliff hangers, sorry. Hopefully I'll have more time soon, but the college stuff is a pain. See ya'll soon, I hope.  
Saint over and out.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author note: Sorry for the long wait. College is hell with tentacles. Hope to update sooner next time!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the elaborate parts, and the re-imagining of the plot.**

**How to train your dragon is Copyright to Dream-works, How to be a pirate is Copyright Cressida Cowell.**

'_thinking'_

_"_Speaking"

If it's in a sentence and no one is _thinking_, italics are used as _emphasis_.

_"If there is a quote." and then text in italics, it will be a recollection in a person's head and their thoughts._

_= end of the section, usually a time, perspective or place shift.

-= end of sequence, usually the two scenes are related eg: the same scene but from someone else's POV.

* * *

_"You're so busted."  
"Dun da da, we're dead. Hey! We'd do you think you're going?" –Astrid and Hiccup after Astrid discovers Toothless._

_

* * *

_

**Part the sixth: Lies and the telling of tales  
**The Whole of the Tribe sat, their eyes as round as pennies, in the Viking equivalent of silence (meaning there was the occasional grunt, clang of metal on wood, mumblings and the occasional chewing of beards) as Alvin made himself comfortable on the Chief's chair. Hiccup and Astrid were joined by their friends and the new trainee's on the floor nearest the mysterious stranger. Toothless curled himself around his two favourite humans, resting on his elbows at hiccups knee while looking narrowed eyed at Alvin. Astrid subtly shifted closer to Hiccup, turning slightly away from heat of the fire that was between them and Alvin, leaning on muted warmth of Toothless's flank instead. Hiccup met her eyes momentarily, before crossing his legs.  
Clearing his throat, an eerie hush fell over the hall as Alvin began his tale.

"I was put in the coffin," He began, "by some very uncivilised people who, not only disbelieved the Tale I am about to tell you, but also suspected me of being a common thief-" Astrid snorted silently in agreement with this assessment.  
"They dumped me over a cliff on their island, with a lot of the mistaken laughter people laugh when they think they are being clever."  
"Meatheads." Rumbled Stoick, folding his arms and frowning. "It sounds like something they would do. Were they lead by a tall, one-eyed Viking, answers to Mogadon?"  
"That does ring a familiar bell, it is true." Nodded Alvin, reclining onto one elbow.  
"But how did you discover the coffin in the first place?" Queried Old Wrinkly from the shadows, sitting bent over his stick, clutching it with both hands: he was looking suspiciously at the back of Alvin's head.

"I am a poor but honest farmer," replied Alvin, without looking back, "and a long time ago in the Peaceable Country, far far away from here, I was digging up some turf for..." he coughed "planting potatoes when I came across this coffin. Which then..." he coughed again "blasted seawater, where was- Oh yes, just fell open in my hands."  
"And when you opened this coffin which says quite clearly 'DO NOT OPEN' on the front," asked Old Wrinkly thoughtfully, "was there not some sort of surprise?"

"You could say that." Admitted Alvin with a good natured smile which perhaps did not quite reach his eyes. "I cannot read as well as you hooligans, so I opened the coffin and reached quite innocently to grasp something inside... and the coffin lid snapped shut with the force of a sharks jaws and in one stroke cut off my hand."  
Alvin held up his right arm.  
There, were his hand should of been emerging from his sleeve, was a black iron claw in the shape of a hook.  
"Mmm." Grunted Stoick, " Booby-trapped. I apologise for my great grandfather, he had a nasty sense of humour."  
"Yes, well. " Alvin smiled oily at him once more "Luckily we poor-but-honest-farmers can take a joke. And this," he gestured to the claw, "is very good at opening oysters. Now, back to my tale. I was careful the next time I opened the coffin to dismantle the booby-trap first, but there was no sign of treasure inside, not even the body of Grimbeard the Ghastly. What there _was..."_

The entire tribe leaned forwards straining with anticipation, mouths open, eyes wide...  
"...was this map (1), and this riddle." Alvin reached under his still soggy cape, and into his jerkin's breast pocket. He pulled out the map and riddle with a flourish and held them up for all to see.  
"Oh." Stated Stoick, very disappointed. He had hoped that Alvin had simply found a valuable object and was naive enough to return it to its rightful owners. "No Grimbeard? No treasure? No stormblade? Just two pieces of paper?" Vikings didn't really hold paper in the highest of regards, seeing as few of them could read and fewer could write in a form that was legible to anybody else.  
"Ah, but Stoick," Said Alvin in a patient tone of voice; "these two pieces of paper will lead us to Grimbeard's treasure."  
"Us?" asked Gobber, confused. "If you had the paper with the riddle on it, and the map, why not go and get it yourself? Why come here?" (2) He scratched under his helmet bemused. To Vikings, if you had treasure and couldn't remember where you hid it without a very-easily-lost map, you deserved to have it stolen. Honesty was never one of their strong points.

"But that would be dishonest!" protested Alvin virtuously. "Even we peaceable folk know the saga of 'The Lost Treasure of Grimbeard the Ghastly'...the treasure belongs to you, his descendants. Besides there the little matter of the riddle, which makes it clear that this treasure cannot be found by just anybody." Alvin cleared his throat and read to the silent audience:

'_Dare ye brave the watery grave?  
The Death's Head pricketh of fire and sleep?  
If ye dare ye are my Heir  
For my Heir and his Beast shall seek it there  
And he shall tell me underground  
Am I lost or am I found?'_

"So you see," finished Alvin, " it seems only the Heir to Grimbeard the Ghastly can find the treasure... And only he and his 'Beast' can find it. By Beast I assume he means a dog or a..." Alvin paused and looked uncomfortably at Toothless. (Although the news had spread quickly that the dragons were tameable, and it had been STOICK's son to start it, some Vikings found it harder to adjust than others.) "Dragon."  
I might point out that dragons are excellent finders of treasure, they excelled at it. Finding it even if it was buried several feet down and for long periods of time. They collected it as far as Hiccup could tell, because it was shiny and flameproof, which was attractive to a mate. The Male with the best nest/cave/rock/hole would win the girl.  
"And I couldn't possibly find this treasure myself," beguiled Alvin, "because I don't have a way with animals. They just don't like me, I can't imagine why. Anyway do you have any idea what the riddle is talking about? You, for instance Stoick, with your quick and lively brain?"

Astrid and Old Wrinkly choked on spit, coughing suddenly and loudly. Stoick struggled to look intelligent.  
"Hmm, it's a hard one." He scowled and rubbed where his chin would have been if not for all the beard. Hiccup stood up and hobbled over, nudging his father in the ribs to get him to notice he was there in the process, he took the map from Stoick's giant paw and unrolled it fully. Inside was a large detailed map of the area around berk and their neighbouring tribes, with borderlines, safe routes and little notes on each Island painfully copied out in Norse (the Vikings native tongue and Latin. Why it would be copied out in their sworn enemy's language Hiccup could only guess.  
"Do you think the 'Death's Head' thing might be referring to the isle of Skullions? A Death's head is a skull after all, or a really poisonous mushroom (3)." Hiccup suggested albeit with hefty dose of sarcasm.  
"Of course!" Stoick boomed delighted, "the Isle of Skullions! That's where it will be!"

The isle of Skullions was a small island off the west coast of Berk that formed the rough shape of a skull and crossbones. It was this shape that Grimbeard had adopted for his flag and, more importantly, his helmet.

"So this island here," Alvin pointed to a point and an X on the paper, "is the Isle of Skullions, is it?" purred Alvin gleefully, stabbing the map with a sharp finger. "And this will be where we'll find the treasure?"  
To Alvin's eternal surprise, the entire tribe burst into laughter.  
"Oh there's no question of finding the treasure if it's on the Isle of the Scullions," said Stoick cheerfully. "Nobody has ever returned from that island alive! Hiccup, read to Alvin from our new Dragon manual." He clapped Hiccup on the shoulder, sending him stumbling several steps towards the table with the new dragon manual on it. Hiccup picked up the new book, momentarily admiring the craftsmanship of the dragon-proof cover ; before licking his thumb and flicking through to a double page spread about the dragon in question.

"The Scullion:  
At ten feet tall, the scullion is a dragon that has lost its ability of flight, eyesight and hearing. However its sense of smell is phenomenal and it will eat anything it comes across, this animal has not been trained thus far and is very, very dangerous. The Scullion will attack it's victims with its extra long super sharp claw, cutting the Achilles tendon at the back of their heels, making them unable to walk, it then eats them alive. Avoid at all costs, Kill on sight."  
Read Hiccup, delighted at his and Fishlegs work. Although Stoick hadn't been happy about rewriting the rules they had lived by for the past seven generations and beyond, he had eventually agreed it was necessary when people had begun asking to be trained in the new art of dragon taming. Hiccup had been the obvious choice but he had protested, stating he only knew about how to approach a dragon and the different methods involved depending on the species, he had no clue about each dragons strengths, fire type or abilities. After a long and loud 'discussion' between Hiccup and his father, Fishlegs had bravely volunteered to help Hiccup write the book. The drawings though, we all Hiccup, the Skullions page showed the beast side on, a detailed sketch of the head and jaw, and several examples of how they killed. The Skullion is built along the lines of a very, very fat wolf, but with dark purple scales, a large snout for sniffing and a unique set of spikes for each dragon.

"Ah." Said Alvin sinking back into the chair, "I see the problem." He paused for a moment, before looking beguile up at Stoick with a small smile:

"But, I am sure a man as clever as you Stoick, will be able to lead a quest to the Isle of the Skullions to find this treasure nonetheless."  
"A quest to the Isle of the Skullions would be total madness." Crackled Old Wrinkly firmly, (he pronounced Skull-uh-dill-li-ons) as Hiccup closed the book with a muffled clap.  
"The Skullions are lethal," Agreed Hiccup (who pronounced it Skull-ee-ons) "We'd never make it out alive." Astrid and Hiccup looked apprehensively at one another, (Astrid was still clutching his left arm).  
"Grimbeard's sword, the stormblade, will be part of this treasure," Wheedled Alvin "and if you held the stormblade the names of you and your tribe would be feared again throughout the Viking world..."

Stoick stroked his beard thoughtfully, sharing a glance with Gobber.

"And you Stoick," cooed Alvin, causing Astrid to snort with laughter "picture yourself with diamonds sprinkled in your beard, a golden breastplate, the Stormblade flaming terribly in one hand, bracelets for those handsome wrists of yours. I can see you already, Mogadon kneeling humbly before you feet. What a vision you shall be!"

Stoick held himself even more upright, this was saying something as Stoick usually held himself ramrod straight so as to appear more impressive (which let's face it was a bit difficult when your 6'6 ft). He had also always secretly fancied himself a pair of Viking earrings.  
"I'LL DO IT!" He boomed.  
"FELLOW VIKINGS!" he turned and bellowed to the crowd, "I SHALL LEAD US ON A QUEST TO FIND THE TREASURE OF OUR ANCESTORS! TOO LONG HAVE WE BEEN DENIED WHAT IS RIGHTFULLY OURS! NOW, WHO'S WITH ME?"

"But it's insane!" yelped Hiccup. "Anyone who sets foot on that island will be eaten alive in moments!" but the tribe was too filled with the ideas of glory, and cheering so loudly no one could hear Hiccup. "Ow. Ow ow, ow." He winced as Astrid leapt into the air, yanking his arm out of it's socket. He then turned at a sympathetic hand on his right shoulder, and shared a look of long suffering with Old Wrinkly.

"GLORY AND RICHES WILL BE OURS!" Crowed Gobber patting Alvin painfully hard on the back. The tribe, including Astrid, roared in reply.  
"Oh here we go..." muttered Hiccup to himself.

* * *

1) This is where you need to refer to your copy of "how to be a pirate" look at the first pages. If you don't have a copy: get a piece of paper (about A4 size.) In the middle of the paper, draw a 3cm diameter circle and label it "Berk". About 10cm south west from this circle make a 1cm circle and label it "Isle Of the Skullions". To the north west, about 6cm away from Berk, draw a 4cm diameter circle, label it "Meathead Isle". To the East, 25 cm away from berk, if you have room, draw a 20cm diameter circle, it WILL go off the map, this is intentional: and then label it "The peaceful country." There, all the significant places mapped out.

2) Again, refer to either book map or self-made map.

3) It really is, I have the delightful pleasure of knowing very little facts about the fungus, however that is one of them. Also known as a Death's Cap.

**Saint over and out.**


End file.
